Heartbeats
by Suzie's Q
Summary: All James had wanted to do was make her smile. It wasn't a date.


I don't own it!

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**Heartbeats**  
Summary: All James had wanted to do was make her smile. It wasn't a date.  
Pairing: J/L  
Word Count: 6,581  
Rating: K+

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February brought pale light and a slow melting of the snow that blanketed the grounds of Hogwarts. The buds of flowers were just beginning to raise their heads on the frail branches of winter-shaken trees, and the ground didn't freeze your bum when you'd been sitting on it for the first time since the end of October.

Lily liked February. It was never that unbearable scorching hot like it was in June and July. She liked that the sunlight was still weak enough so that she didn't feel it beating down on her relentlessly when she stepped out from under the shade. She liked that there was still a touch of frost on the air, that kept her cool and alert. She liked to sit outside during the month of February. She liked to watch things come back to life after a lazy, slow slumber during the winter months. More than anything, she liked to watch the blossoming of new flowers, baby leaves and trees. They often replaced old flowers, and she liked to quietly observe the new life, often something more beautiful than what had been there before.

She liked the idea that the cold, balmy breeze still gave her the feeling that it could whisk her away, to distant snow-capped mountains or green fields that stretched further than the mind could see. This particular year, the last year that she would spend her February in the beautiful grounds of Hogwarts, she especially liked its appeal, because for a little while, she could allow herself to be swallowed up by all the good that February had brought and forget all that troubled her. Especially, she could forget that only a few days ago, as January drew to its close and marked another year in her life completed, her family had forgotten her.

Her friends insisted that her letter had simply been lost in the post, and that it would be here soon. If they knew that she thought they had forgotten her, they would be so heartbroken. The usual. Lily waited with hope, and in the meantime, she could escape in the lovely air that February brought to the Hogwarts grounds.

This was why, one evening early on in the month, James found her outside, in her favourite spot. It was slightly sloped ground, perfectly slanted so that she could either lie out to gaze up at the sky or sit up if she'd brought homework or a book with her, without feeling uncomfortable. It had a view of the lake and Hagrid's hut, and was right next to a tree of pink blossoms.

James would describe his friendship with Lily Evans as careful. Working together as Head Boy and Girl brought a natural amicability to the unlikely pair, of course. After spending many late nights sanctioning and approving the punishments doled out by prefects, constantly rearranging schedules, organising clubs and meetings, arranging all those Defence meetings Lily had suggested; it wasn't surprising that they had become friends. It was hard not to be friends with someone after staying up with them until three in the morning to frantically finish the same work.

There had even been a few occasions where they'd behaved as what James would describe as close friends. A few times where Lily had confided in him instead of her friends, most likely because she didn't want to start a fight amongst them or hurt another's feelings. A few times where James had admitted how worried he was about his parents, about everybody, and had found a tremendous source of comfort in Lily.

They knew things about the other that very few other people did, and they had given tiny pieces of themselves to the other. But James knew better to think it would go any further than that. First of all, those nights had been outliers. That wasn't them, not usually. They had been flukes. They had been strange and different. The nights when their talks on the way back to the common room had been about something deep, or important, or profound.

Most days were not like that. Most days were light and conversational and plain.

James knew that it would be foolish to hope that something more would ever grow. In fact, he was more than happy to be her friend. If they grew to be closer friends, he would have no ill feeling. He had managed to find a way to push his emotions down. Occasionally there would come a day, when seeing her was harder than usual. When being in such close proximity to her made him on edge, made his heart thud in his chest. When every little thing she did knocked him off his feet, and all he wanted was to be _with _her, to hold her hand as they walked down the corridors, to kiss her cheek when he said goodbye to her, to steal kisses when they were meant to be sorting out the patrol schedules.

But his friendship with Lily – while still new and frail – was important to him. He would not risk it by pressuring her into _anything _(as if Lily would let herself be pressured) or asking any more of her. He was happy with friendship, and it was wise to be. He would not let his feelings ruin them, and thus, he refused to let them grow at all.

The best technique was to pretend they didn't exist, and so far, it appeared to be working well for him. Of course, it wasn't like he _abstained _just because he'd had a crush on Lily Evans that didn't work out. He'd been with a few people, he'd been thoroughly distracted from Lily at different periods through his years here. But none had quite niggled a spot in his heart as completely as she did. Not that that still mattered.

It had been months, and yet, at times like this when they weren't scheduled to work together, James felt a little apprehensive about approaching her. Admittedly, his stomach still swooped when he saw her. Clearly, it had yet to catch up with the decision his brain had made.

For the life of him he didn't understand why the girls would think he would be of any help to her. Perhaps his ridiculous jokes would prompt a smile. James would understand _that _at least; no one mastered the fine art of humour just the way James had. This time last year, he would have only felt satisfaction in making her blood boil, and he was the last person her friends would ask. But it was _not _last year, and that particular activity wasn't nearly as enjoyable as it had once been.

He'd much rather go inside and tactically place some Dungbombs somewhere they would be of best use, but her friends had asked him to talk to her, be a little nicer to her (James was scandalised; he was always perfectly gentlemanly to Lily), so he walked over to where she was sitting, casually playing with her hair as she read, and sat down beside her. And besides, no matter how often he told himself that his current feelings for Lily were purely platonic, he was unlikely to turn down an opportunity to speak to her. He liked talking with her. He liked the way she phrased things, the way she wrinkled her nose when someone pointed out something problematic to what she'd been saying. He liked the way she spoke with her hands, the same way he did. He always wanted to talk to her, really. (And he was dreadfully impressed by his own self control that he didn't try to every waking moment.)

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Lily peered up at him, surprised. She had wanted to be alone, finally with a moment away from all the things she had to do, a moment where she wasn't drowning in homework. But she found that she didn't mind his presence. In fact, recently, Lily found that she didn't mind his presence at all_. _He was a lot easier to talk to than Lily had anticipated.

"Hi," she said slowly, blinking at him. She set down her book and placed it beside her. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Bit murky," he replied. Lily noticed the way he was eyeing her sceptically.

Lily waved him off with her hand. "Don't be ridiculous. This weather is perfect."

"Well, it's not very bright out," James said conversationally. Lily's eyes followed his arms as he leaned back on his hands, his legs stretched out in front of him.

"Not that I'm asking you to leave or anything," she said. "But is there something I can help you with? Or is this just where you sit?"

James tilted his head, frowning at her. She sounded so deflated. James found that he missed her smile. He missed her sharp remarks and witty comments, usually at his expense.

"No, I don't need help," he said, grinning at her. "This just happens to be the best view in all of Hogwarts, this spot right here." Not true, he thought to himself. For a fleeting second, he imagined showing Lily where the real best view in all of Hogwarts was. But somehow, his mind associated it with romance (he hadn't told the other Marauders about it, it was more of a private thing) and therefore, it was out of the question.

Her gaze swept over him, curious and if he wasn't mistaken, disbelieving. After a few seconds, Lily sighed, folding her hands on her lap. "What is it?" she prodded.

She was relieved to find that she didn't have to pester James for the truth. He gave it quite willingly, though his tone was begrudging. "Mary asked me to come see if you were okay."

Lily blew a raspberry, flopping out on her back, gazing up at the sky, which was pale blue. "What, is she worried I'm about to tip myself off the Astronomy Tower, or something?"

"No," James replied, his frown deepening. It transformed his face completely, and Lily found she didn't like to see him frown. It made her uncomfortable. Of course, James did several things that made her uncomfortable, but he was actively responsible for very few of them. "She just thinks you're a bit... gloomy. And of course, only my charm and rapier wit can pull you from the depths of despair."

Lily permitted a small smile, and James felt relief flood through his system. It wasn't much, but it was progress. It was _something. _

Lily eyed him curiously as she fiddled with the ends of her hair. She could see James' eyes trace the movements of her fingers. On the one hand, she couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. She did not need Mary or any of the other girls to babysit her, and using James as a shield, seeing as the girls would have known that she wouldn't shoot the messenger, didn't impress Lily. But watching his expression, it wasn't hard to imagine that he genuinely cared for his own reasons, rather than theirs. She blinked at him, her eyes drifting over his face, observing the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, the fine shadows that his eyelashes cast on his cheeks. She sighed heavily, avoiding his eyes.

She hated it, but occasionally she did feel a little guilty about how things were between the two of them. She'd known that he had liked her, and she'd had crushes of her own, so she knew how it felt, she knew that it brought a sinking feeling in your gut, and it made you do stupid things, and it really did hurt when you got turned down. But that didn't excuse anyone from acting like a prat, and that was something she just couldn't live with.

For a fleeting second, she found herself wishing that everything that had different. That she'd made friends with the boy clad in red robes instead of green. It would have made her life so much simpler. And they would have been entirely different people by the time they were in fifth year. And maybe, they would have been able to grow from there together, and by now, things would have been so different. So easy. So nice, she thought to herself, before snapping herself out of it. She could not change the past, and she saw little point in regretting the choices she had made. She could only learn from them.

Besides, this was James Potter. This was the boy who had strained her friendship with Severus for years, who was liable to throw a hex for no reason whatsoever. He had made vast improvements in the last year and a half; that much was undeniable. But she was not foolish enough to forget it all, and act like none of it had ever happened. Let it go, and act like he was never that boy, like he had never done those things. She had long forgiven him (perhaps prompted by how surprised she'd been when he offered her an apology) but she found it harder to forget.

But this was also the boy who knew how to cheer people up, who could be really funny, who could be surprisingly smart - and as much as she hated to admit it, often picked up on things a lot faster than she did - and who, deep down, had his heart in the right place. And bitterly, Lily wished she could see more of it. She didn't like cocky, arrogant James. But she'd always had a feeling that that wasn't all there was to him. But she didn't want to be proved wrong. And she certainly didn't want to live in the past anymore.

It had been so difficult to make an effort with him without getting too close. She wasn't stupid – or blind, for that matter – and while she had disapproved of a lot of his behaviour in the past, she had always been acutely aware that he was the sort of boy it was easy to fall in love with. It was only _natural _that she put herself at a distance. There was so much there, in the past but still clinging on. So much that she wasn't sure of. The more she saw of James, particularly through their seventh year, the harder it became. Was she scared of what would happen if they became much closer? She wasn't sure. Perhaps she was. Perhaps she wasn't ready to admit that it _would _happen. What scared her was not knowing.

She trained her eyes away from him, and busied herself with tying her shoelace while she gathered her thoughts. "Listen, you can tell Mary that I'm fine, and that if she wanted to talk to me, she doesn't have to do it _through you, _I'm hardly going to bite her head o-"

"I wanted to talk to you," James cut across her. He was looking at her with an expression of mingled concern and impatience. They were _friends, _he thought. He shouldn't need a reason to want to talk to her. Perhaps she didn't feel quite the same way about their relationship as he did.

"Of – of course," Lily said, her voice much softer than she'd planned. "That's not what I was saying, James." Her name felt strange and new as it left her lips, but she couldn't deny that it gave her a sense of exhilaration. She imagined her heart stuttering. It hadn't _really. _Of course not.

"She mentioned something about your mum and dad," James said slowly. He could hear the sadness in her voice. His chest constricted with worry that something very serious had happened. He couldn't explain the completely irrational and probably unachievable desire to protect her from any anguish. "Are they okay?"

She nodded, chewing on her lip. "I suspect they're fine. Nothing serious. No Death Eaters or anything like that," she mumbled, wrinkling her nose. She didn't want him to think that she was miserable. The owl was just running late, that's all. He waited, letting the silence hang over her until she was prompted to elaborate. James knew how to get what he wanted.

She sighed, sitting up and hugging her knees to her chest. There was no harm in telling him, she told herself. "Well, it was my birthday a few days ago," she mumbled.

"I remember," said James cheerfully. "I believe we threw you a wonderful party."

Despite herself, Lily smiled weakly, nodding. "Yes, you did," she admitted. "Thank you very much, I really did enjoy myself."

"So...?"

"So," Lily said deliberately, pondering over her words. "Well, I was expecting my parents to contact me. Deliver something. A card. Even a letter would have been nice."

"And they didn't?" he said quietly. Lily noted the change in his tone and looked up at him sharply. She blinked.

"It's not that bad," she said quickly. She was very grateful for all her parents had done for her, and she would hate for him to think otherwise. "Not that you'd know," she added, attempting to lighten the mood. "You've never had to wait on anything."

He was quiet for a beat, gritting his teeth in an odd mixture of a smile and a grimace. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I've done plenty of waiting."

It took a second for the ball to drop, but once it did, she felt her heart plummet in a similar fashion.

"Right," she muttered, curling her toes and cringing slightly.

After a few seconds, James cleared his throat, ghosting a hand over his face. "Anyway," he said, blinking at the ground. "You were saying…they didn't send a card?" He didn't look up at her. His face was bright red, and he was slapping himself internally.

"No, they didn't," Lily said thoughtfully. "I don't know, I…I suppose it's just late, but I hate the idea that they just forgot."

That wasn't even the crux of the issue, she thought to herself, though she wouldn't say that to James. The issue was that there was a rift in her family that had been – well, not her doing, exactly – because of her, and it could not be mended. She knew that her parents found it difficult to mediate between the two girls. Her family was divided, and it made small things like this seem so much worse. She didn't expect anything from Petunia, but having essentially lost one family member (apart from clipped and forced conversation when they were both at home, woefully strenuous efforts to remain civil to one another, perhaps an odd Christmas card or a present without much thought behind it), she could not bear to think that she would lose another, even by the slightest action. Or lack, thereof, as the case may be.

She didn't know if James could gauge any of that, but she found that, if perhaps he was able to read more into the situation than she was prepared to tell, she wouldn't mind. It would be nice for someone to understand without her having to explain herself, and if anyone could give her that gratification, it was James.

"I'm sure it's just running late," James told her. He sounded firm, but his voice had a strange gentle quality that she had never heard him use before. It made her start and blink up at him in surprise – and alarm. She swallowed, looking away hurriedly. "Are you really that upset over it?"

She nodded, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth. He did nothing only look at her, waiting for her to meet his eyes again, and when she did, she did not find pity or confusion like she expected. There was curiosity, and perhaps tenderness, thoughtfulness. Maybe his expression was even slightly pleading. Perhaps he didn't like to see her frown either.

"You're sort of scaring me, Evans," he said, and though it was obviously made as a joke, he spoke quietly. "I didn't think you'd be so upset over something like this. You're someone who deserves to be smiling all the time."

Lily's expression softened, and the corner of her mouth twitched up a little bit. She didn't say anything for a while, and for a few minutes she didn't really feel like it mattered what either of them had done or said in the past. Now that he was here, she found she didn't want to be alone at all.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she said quietly, feeling her ears going red.

For a second, he didn't reply. What he had always liked most about Lily was the fact that she had no idea how brilliantly mesmerizing she was, even by just the smallest things.

He chewed on his lip, raking his fingers through his hair shakily, before taking his glasses off to rub them on his trousers. She watched him fidget for a moment, quiet. He didn't know what sort of determination had seized him, but she was his friend – and that was more than a good thing, it was a wonderful thing – and he missed her smile and he wanted to see it again.

"Listen, Lily," he said, his words running into each other in his haste to get them out. "As fun as all this moping is and all, would you mind letting me try to cheer you up?"

Lily stared at him. Whatever she had been expecting, it hadn't been that. For a second she thought she had heard him wrong, or imagined he'd said more. Perhaps he was going to ask her out again. She was sure he considered that reason to be cheered up. But no, he hadn't asked her out since the start of sixth year – a thought that came to her too fast, and made her stomach lurch too violently – and she was certain that those days, when she was 'Evans' and her friends giggled when Potter asked her out because he was _Potter, _were behind them.

He was looking at her with a soft smile and gleaming eyes, and Lily wasn't so sure that she had imagined her heart stuttering this time. She was quite sure that 'cheering her up' entailed breaking at least – at the _very _least – one rule, but it would hardly be her first time.

She wrinkled her nose, pondering her options. Eventually, she nodded, getting to her feet and brushing off her skirt. Besides her, James leapt to his feet, grinning. "Great, yes, okay, let's go to Hogsmeade."

"How?" she asked, her eyebrows knitting together.

"You'll see," he promised, and Lily thought she saw him give her a shadow of a wink. They fell into step beside each other with ease, Lily half a step behind James so he could lead the way.

"I'm still not done with moping, you know," she told him as they walked, nudging his elbow with her own. He just grinned.

And maybe she wouldn't feel any better tomorrow. Maybe she'd go right back to moping - and she planned to - and it wouldn't change how she felt. But it couldn't hurt to forget about all that, just for one night.

The pair reached Hogwarts and he led her though the corridors. "I hope you're not averse to breaking a rule or two," he said with glee.

Lily shook her head, fighting back a small smile. "I was expecting it. Where are we going?

"Oh, nowhere special," he teased, grinning at her. "Come on, hurry up."

Lily wasn't entirely shocked when he revealed a passageway, and told her that it led to Hogsmeade. She did feel a bit apprehensive about using it, but he assured her that they'd be fine, and for some reason, Lily was inclined to trust him.

They were halfway down what she could only describe as a tunnel before she began to grow a little anxious. Though she had never suggested otherwise, she was his _friend, _and she had no desire to lead him on or hurt his feelings. She probably should have said something, made it clear. She found that she liked being friends with him, and she didn't want anyone getting hurt, or an end coming to this new friendship.

James tried not to overthink their conversation as they made their way through the passage. It was dark enough, even with the light of his wand, and when he felt Lily's hand curl around his wrist (after she'd stumbled for about the sixth time), he found that he stood up a little straighter. He had never felt more alone with Lily than he did right now.

Her face was nothing but shapes in the dim light, but that didn't stop him sneaking glances at her as they walked. He'd gotten more from simply the words she'd said about what was bothering her, but he would have given anything to know what was going through her head at that moment. To know if she even realised that her hand was still curled around his as they approached the entrance into Hogsmeade.

The passageway was long and had led to them to the edge of the village, emerging from the back of a very tall statue that looked like it was about to collapse, cracks running along the stone like veins.

He jumped out first and then turned to help Lily down, avoiding her gaze as he did. He noticed her cheeks go faintly pink, and he let go of her sharply. It was cold out here, that was all.

The sky had been stained deep pinks and oranges as the sun had begun to set, growing steadily darker as Lily and James walked down the High Street.

"Let's go to the Three Broomsticks," he suggested, nodding towards the popular inn at the end of the path. "I'm in the mood for their pumpkin stew. It's not the best, I'd say my mum makes better, but still..."

"Pumpkin stew?" she repeated, looking lost. "I've never had it. I don't think I've ever been in there long enough to have a meal."

James blinked at her, surprised. "Well, I'd highly recommend it." He watched as her features darkened slightly and she looked away, sadness creeping back into her expression. He wondered what her previous experiences in this inn had been like. Judging by her emotions, which were written clearly on her face, they were not very pleasant memories. He wondered if people had jeered, he wondered if Snape had kept off the beaten track so no one would see him with her. Or perhaps he just insisted that they spent all their time in that slimy apothecary in one of the allies, instead of a nice, homely pub like the Three Broomsticks.

"I'm sure it's great. I love it in there anyway," she added quickly. If he was going to try and cheer her up, the least she could do was act grateful. She _was _grateful. But she had never tried pumpkin stew in the Three Broomsticks, or had much time to try any of their specialty dishes, really. She wondered how much else she had yet to discover.

James couldn't help but watch Lily from the corner of his eye as they continued walking. He watched her cheeks, usually pale, flush with colour. He watched her brilliant red hair whip around her face in a gust of wind. He watched her eyes trail the ground, the green indecipherable beneath her thick eyelashes.

They both welcomed the warm gust of air as they entered the pub, and they made their way to a booth right by the fireside. He sat facing her – most of the patrons were at the bar – and felt that this was even more intimate than their walk here.

Lily wrung her hands together. A wave of mixed emotions had hit her. She felt comfortable and privately pleased, as she had been somewhat cheered. But then a pang of guilt and worry hit her. This was beginning to seem dreadfully like a date, and she hadn't meant to lead him on by any means.

She was unaware of James' similar trepidation. This was remarkably similar to most of the dates he'd had in the last year, right down to the sneaking out of Hogwarts part. But he hadn't asked her on a date (perhaps that just made it harder for her to say no) and they were _not _interested in each other. It was just the setting, he told himself; the soft, welcoming light of the fire, a witch's soft, sultry voice crooning in the background.

He hadn't _planned _this as a date. All he'd really wanted to do was see her smile. He observed her as she looked over her menu, brow furrowed in thought. He waited, waited until those memorable eyes snapped up to meet his gaze again, and he would try to keep himself from falling deeper and deeper into them. As usual.

His gaze travelled from her eyes and reached her mouth, as did his thoughts. He didn't remember having this strong an urge to kiss her earlier this evening. It had swept over him like a wave, washing him completely away.

He cleared his throat and hastily picked up his own menu, pushing those thoughts down. He wasn't going to spoil a pleasant evening. The objective of this was to cheer her up, not freak her out or make her uncomfortable. He had to keep a leash on his mind. He couldn't go saying something awfully inappropriate or try to talk her into anything. He wasn't that low. And he had more respect for both of them to presume…

"So how does that stew look?" James said conversationally, desperate to take his mind off the shape of her mouth, the way a strand of hair had curled over her collarbone delicately.

"How are we paying for this, by the way?" she replied, her menu still propped in front of her.

"I have money, don't worry," he said coolly, chuckling.

She smiled up at him, and James was relieved to see it. "Never can say no to free food," she said, considerably brighter than she had been earlier.

James smiled up at her, privately marvelling at how her smile lit up her whole face. As he gazed, her cheeks flushed, and he wished she'd lower her menu from obscuring as he lowered his own.

He sat back, lacing his fingers together and cracking his knuckles. Just as Lily laid down her menu, she frowned and leaned forward.

"What happened your arm?" she asked, holding his wrist delicately in her hands and inspecting the half-healed gash across the inside of his arm.

He grimaced, shrugging half-heartedly. "Had a sort of...mishap at practice yesterday." Her eyebrows knitted together, and he continued, feeling his cheeks heat up. "Well, I was trying something really –"

"Stupid?" she supplied for him.

He grinned ruefully. "You could say that," he allowed. He was almost painfully aware that she was still holding his arm, lightly trailing a finger across the healing, raw skin, and sending a surge of electricity through him. "See, the new Chaser for the Arrows –" James didn't get to finish.

Again, his companion cut him off. "Ooooh, Ibbotson!" she raved as she sat back, letting go of his arm. "He's incredible, isn't he?"

James blinked at her for a total of three long seconds. "You – you know him?"

"Oh please," she scoffed. "Everyone in the country does. He does try some very risky moves, though."

James' eyes bulged out of his head, and he was sure he had strayed into some strange dream. "Yeah...He really does. Anyway, I saw a match with my dad over the Christmas holidays and –"

"And thought you'd try it out," she said with glee, shaking her head. "And nearly killed yourself."

"Pretty much," James muttered, staring at her. Outright staring, but he was beyond caring by now.

Lily opened her mouth just as a waitress sauntered over to take their order. The moment she'd written down both orders, Lily turned her face back to him, her long hair falling again around her shoulders as it settled.

"Anyway, I really do think he's good, but he should probably calm down," she said thoughtfully. "He was the reason the Arrows didn't make it to the Final last summer, and they really deserved to be there."

"I was at that game," he chirped, beaming now. "It was unbelievable." He grinned broadly at her. "I'll never forget it. The Magpies crushed the Holyhead Harpies – 345 to 270. Gripping game." He flushed and looked down at his food again. That was probably going too far, she'd be rolling her eyes any second...

He was, however, wonderfully surprised.

She perked up even more at the mention, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Oh, I know, I was outraged. I mean, I'm an Arrows girl, but I'd support the Harpies over the Magpies any day, I was disgusted. Especially with the amount of foul play. They're almost as bad as the Cannons. No wonder the Cannons never win the league, so many of their players get sent off in every game." She laughed, sitting up a little straighter, and went on, her words rapidly increasing as she became more animated.

"I didn't go to the game, obviously - can't get tickets, and even if I could, couldn't pay for them - but I read all the reports and watched all the playbacks, it was some game, wasn't it?"

She thought she saw surprise register on his face. She realised that James Potter, Quidditch extraordinaire, didn't know how fervently she followed the League, or that she never missed a school game, or that she read every magazine she could get her hands on. She supposed she was never very vocal about it, but the expression on his face was worth mentioning it.

"I didn't know you liked Quidditch so much," he said, his eyebrows raised. He looked like someone had smacked him in the face with a frying pan, and nothing could have put him in a better mood.

She nodded enthusiastically. "I think the Wasps have a real chance of winning this year, don't you?"

James stuttered. "D-did you say you were an Arrows girl?"

She nodded.

"They're my team," he told her, pointing at his chest for emphasis. "I've got a jersey and a shit ton of merchandise and season tickets..."

"You have season tickets?" she repeated, burning with envy. "I've never seen a game that wasn't a school game, and you have season tickets."

James felt his face heat up, but he couldn't tell if it was from his delight, or from the words he was about to say. "I'll take you to one. I'll take you to all the games you want."

Her face softened, though her smile didn't falter at all. "We'll be running the Arrows Fan Club in no time."

He laughed and nodded, and then launched into a description of the last Arrows game he'd seen. Lily listened intently, but more than that, she could argue with him about Quidditch. She saw the game in a slightly different way than he did, and nothing was more fascinating and wonderful to him.

And while it surprised her, Lily had to admit to herself that she was enjoying herself as much as he was, just as James had promised she would. She felt a rush of gratitude towards him for trying to cheer her up. She found herself leaning in over the table, conversation coming easy to the pair. Her leg bounced fitfully, and she could barely wait to get her words out, to hear what James had to say about a particular player, that dreadful referee in the last Harpies match, anything and everything.

And after a while, she realised that she was leaning on her arms halfway across the table to hear him, smiling at him with a tenderness she wasn't used to. Suddenly she felt self-conscious.

She was forced to sit back once their food arrived, and once she did, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was a date, that if anyone saw them as they were, the whole school would be talking about it the following morning.

Of course, Lily had learned that there were worse things than gossip (and privately considered how satisfying it would have been to see Severus' face when that particular snippet reached him).

And then she realised, once the thought had struck her, that she wouldn't even mind that sort of gossip. In fact, maybe it even seemed sort of nice. After all, they were having a lovely evening, and they'd put so much time into improving their relationship in the first place...

She felt her cheeks heat up when she recognised where her train of thought had taken her, and smiled sheepishly. Occasionally she thought she saw his eyes dart to her mouth once or twice - she had a habit of pinching her bottom lip between her thumb and finger when she was deep in conversation - but she said nothing about it. She was probably imagining it, and she couldn't form a coherent sentence to breach that subject without going stiff with awkwardness, before quickly brushing those thoughts away.

As they left the inn, both were smiling like they had shared something private, something special. And as they walked, James thought to himself that the evening had been exactly that, and that he had known it would be, somewhere deep down. At the same time, Lily realized that she had had no idea what the evening would turn into, but that it had been undeniably intimate. She smiled to herself, marvelling at the idea that she had shared something so significant with James Potter.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, obviously a bit worn out from their exuberant conversation. Their discussion on Quidditch had covered a vast amount of topics, and had led them on to anything and everything else: school, family, their friends, their teachers. Lily thought that they had uncovered the other's entire life in a single evening, and she replayed their conversations as they ambled quietly back through the dimly lit passageway. She had no way of knowing that James was doing the exact same thing.

They were about halfway home, James reckoned, when Lily cleared her throat and spoke again. "Say, James," she said slowly. James felt his gut wrench slightly. They were getting closer to Hogwarts. He didn't want this to be over just yet. He didn't know what would happen tomorrow. How they would be tomorrow.

He didn't voice this. He simply swallowed and kept walking, gaze forward. "Mmm?"

"Did this –" she paused, choosing her words carefully. "Did this feel like a date to you?"

James barely missed a beat before he replied, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. "Yeah."

"Hmm." Lily was quiet for another minute or two, and they had reached the end of the passage before she said anything else. She looked up and caught his eye, unable to resist the wide smile that spread across her face.

"Did we just have a first date?" she inquired politely, one eyebrow slightly quirked.

James blinked down at her. "I think so," he replied in a similar tone. They stood, holding the other's gaze, and they smiled, until Lily laughed, shrugging one shoulder.

"Maybe we should, you know, maybe, go on another sometime."

"Yeah. Maybe."

* * *

Feedback is always welcome!


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